


The Ballad of the Princess and the Commoner

by indigorose50



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oblivious Gay, Operas, Post-Time Skip, Romance, is it a songfic if you make up the songs for your made up musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-11-27 09:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20945909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: Dorothea and Ferdinand star in an impromptu opera. Ferdinand gives Hubert a front row ticket because that's what friends do... right?





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Ingrid and Dorothea's C support scene again a few days ago where Dorothea tells Ingrid that they're holding an opera in the cathedral. The first half of this flew into my head all at once. 
> 
> First fic for Fire Emblem! Be kind! <3

“An opera?” Hubert repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes!” Ferdinand grinned, still holding out the ticket. “There will be one later this week in the Cathedral. Dorothea has been planning it.”

“Ah, yes. I remember her requesting to use that space for something.”

Ferdinand’s grin faltered. “Do you not enjoy opera?”

“I do not _dislike_ opera,” Hubert clarified. “I can appreciate the skill it requires to perform for, and stand scrutiny by, hundreds of people. But I do not often have time to sit for hours to be told a story. If I need a dose of fiction, I pick up a book.”

“Well,” Ferdinand scrambled, “this opera is not very long. Only two acts. There are more than enough seats for everyone but cast members have been given two tickets to hand out as they please so they may guarantee friends a front row seat. You work so hard for Her Majesty that I thought perhaps-”

“Stop,” Hubert ordered, putting up a gloved hand. Ferdinand’s mouth shut automatically. Could Hubert be rejecting the idea that they are friends? There was no other word for someone who you bickered with over tea and coffee. Or someone who wasn’t afraid to call you out on your mistakes and offer corrections. Or someone who could make you smile over the smallest gift. 

Actually there were a few words for people like but Ferdinand never dwelled on them.

Hubert went on, snapping Ferdinand from his thoughts. “Cast members received these tickets? I did not realize you were in the opera.”

“Oh yes!” Ferdinand straightened proudly. “You are looking at the male lead! The handsome commoner that the Princess falls for!”

Judgmental eyes scanned Ferdinand up and down. “I was not aware Dorothea could stand your presence long enough to act opposite you.”

“Believe it or not, I think working so closely for this opera has helped strengthen our bond. We had a little conversation about why she despised me for so long. Now we can move forward.” Ferdinand shook the ticket he still held. “If you accept my invitation, you could see firsthand if we have chemistry on stage.”

Hubert cocked his head curiously. “And what if I do not accept? I am fairly busy, you know.”

“I... I had planned for the other ticket to go to Ashe. I do not know how he feels about opera but I know he likes a good story. I suppose I would give him both tickets.”

“You must have people to invite other than myself.”

Ferdinand found the desk beside them fascinating as he said, “Sure, but no one who I would rather have a front seat.”

There was a pause where Ferdinand could not get himself to pick his head up. Then long fingers brushed against his own. He met Hubert’s eyes as the man slid the ticket from his outstretched hand. “I will see if I can make time,” Hubert said, almost gently. 

A smile took over Ferdinand’s face. “Excellent! It is this Sunday night. Wait until you hear the song where Dorothea and I meet. I predict it will stick with everyone well after the curtain falls!”

“Ferdinand.” Hubert seemed to be taking his time tucking the ticket into his coat. “If I am... unable to come, please know that it is not out of malice. I will do what I can to make myself available that night but, the war must come first.”

Some of Ferdinand’s excitement dwindled. Of course, the war. How could he forget? Now he almost felt a fool; he and Hubert were Edelgard’s advisers. It was one thing for Ferdinand to act in his spare time, but for Hubert to be gone also? Even if it was just for a night, it felt juvenile to ask Hubert to put the war aside and attend. 

Ferdinand inclined his head. “I understand.” Suddenly awkward, Ferdinand cleared his throat. “I should be going. Caspar wanted to train together.”

“Very well.” Hubert sat back down at his desk. “Do be careful not to leave yourself open as often as you did when we routed those bandits yesterday.”

“Excuse me? I did perfectly fine.”

“Because Linhardt was healing you incessantly from several paces away.” The mocking smirk on Hubert’s face did wonders for Ferdinand’s mood. This was familiar ground.

“Fine. If it will stop you worrying, I will be more cautious sparing one on one with a classmate I have known for several years.”

Hubert waved a hand dismissively. “When you are on your back with a training axe at your throat and your lance broken, remember I tried to be a help.”

With a tsk, Ferdinand left the room. The foolish feeling from before was gone, replaced with elation. Hubert had accepted his invitation! 

His high spirits lasted until he passed Dorothea on the grass by the old classrooms. She sat with her knees to her chin, picking at a flower, a forlorn expression on her face.

“What is it, my Princess?” He teased as he sat beside her. “Permit me to plant myself down and be an ear to thee.”

She heaved a sigh. “I... I gave Edie a ticket,” she confessed. “I know she’s in charge of a lot of things but I thought... perhaps one night wouldn’t hurt.”

Ferdinand wrapped an arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder without hesitation. He had not been lying when he told Hubert this opera had helped his and Dorothea’s friendship. “What did she say?”

“Oh, you know Edie. She tried to be nice and told me she really wanted to go. But it might be tough to squeeze it in her schedule.” Another sigh. “I know the opera is sort of last minute. Lots of people can’t make it. I just wanted to give Edie a relaxing night. Curse this war.”

Ferdinand rested his cheek on her head. “I know your feelings well,” he told her. “I gave Hubert a ticket. He told me something similar.”

“Oh Ferdie...” Dorothea patted his arm. “Look at us. How did we both fall for the busiest people in the Empire?”

“We— what?”

But Dorothea didn’t seem to be listening. She untangled herself from Ferdinand and got to her feel. “I’m going to give my other ticket to Ingrid. At least I know _she_ will be there. I could use some good news.”

Ferdinand watched her go, several things spinning through his head. Dorothea thought of Edelgard that way? And now she thought _he_ thought of _Hubert_ that way?! He lay down on the grass, watching a Pegasus glide overhead. He would have to clear up that misunderstanding at rehearsal.

And that’s all it was. A misunderstanding.

For a moment, just as an experiment, Ferdinand pictured Hubert in the front row. He pictured Hubert standing and clapping, looking directly at Ferdinand in that intense way he often did, perhaps a small though genuine smile on his face.

A mad blush crept up Ferdinand’s neck and he covered his face with both hands. No, none of that. Experiment over. Time to find Caspar.

* * *

The days leading up to the opera sped by. Between training, rehearsal, council meetings, and sleep, Ferdinand barely remembered to eat much less have tea with Hubert. Which was a shame because Ferdinand missed being able to enjoy tea. These days he just chugged a burning cup on his way to the next thing that needed his attention.

On Saturday, the day before the performance, Dorothea practically bounced into the cathedral.

“Well now, who am I to thank for making you smile?” Ferdinand said brightly as she approached.

Without warning, she grabbed him in a tight hug. “Edie said she could come! She rescheduled a meeting, just for the opera!”

A brief spark of jealous flared in Ferdinand’s stomach before he pushed it away and returned her hug. “That is great news!”

“And here’s the best part!” She plowed on. “I asked her to let Hubie off the hook too!”

“You did?! Why?”

“You’ve worked so hard on this opera, Ferdie.” Dorothea pulled away to look Ferdinand in the eye, smiling softly. “You deserve to show off to the people you care about.”

“I— Listen, Dorothea, about that—”

“Hm?”

Ferdinand let his arms drop. “I… I do not think of Hubert that way. You are mistaken.”

Dorothea stared at him. For a heartbeat, Ferdinand thought she was going to yell at him for making her go through the trouble.

Then she began laughing.

“D-Do you truly not see it?” She wheezed. “You don’t— oh this is too much, Ferdie!”

“I—I am speaking honestly, Dorothea!” He almost had to shout to be heard over her laughter.

It was no use. She laughed until she looked up and saw what was no doubt a troubled expression on his face. “Ferdie,” she said gently, holding her cheek in her hand as she considered him, “you’re really deep in denial, aren’t you?”

“I told you—”

“I heard what you _said_. But I’ve been watching how you _act_.” She tilted her head, her smile turning sympathetic. “Just allow yourself happiness. Don’t push it away as long as I did.”

With that, she left him to get into costume. Ferdinand stood rooted to the spot for some time. Allow himself happiness? Why, he did so as often as he could! He took solace in winning against an opponent, talking to like-minded souls about the arts, his quiet time with Hubert, going over battle scenarios with Hubert, teasing Hubert, making Hubert smile, shopping for rare coffee for him—

Oh. His _actions_. 

Ferdinand covered his face with his hands once again. He really didn’t need this right now. Not with the war ready to take a classmate from him at any moment, not with the opera opening tomorrow…

“Ferdinand?” He jumped and turned to see Alois just behind him. “Are you alright? You’re supposed to be in costume by now.”

“I am fine!” Ferdinand said in a voice slightly higher than normal. “I will go now. Sorry for the delay!”

And he ran off, hoping to avoid further questioning.

* * *

The night of the opera was cool and clear. As Dorothea had instructed, everyone came elegantly dressed. Soldiers wore their military best, women glided in floor length dresses or flowing skirts, men were in fine vests or jackets.

Ferdinand peeked out at the growing audience from the edge of the makeshift stage. He spotted nearly everyone from the Black Eagle Strike Force in the first few rows. Someone had convinced Bernadetta to come and she clung to Petra’s side as her eyes scanned the crowd nervously. He sincerely hoped she lost herself in the story and forgot to be scared. The professor was near the back next to Shamir. Both were also watching the room. Probably looking for potential threats. Didn’t those two ever rest?

Among those in the front row were Ashe and Ingrid, who sat together. Ferdinand almost didn’t recognize Ingrid; he had never seen her so made up.

He watched as Edelgard skirted into the room. How she managed to avoid detection, Ferdinand would never understand. Somehow she edged around the mass of people and made her way backstage. Ferdinand was about to quietly hail her, thinking she needed him in an advisory role, when behind him Dorothea cried, “Edie!”

In full costume, Dorothea rushed at Edelgard, hugging her tight. Edelgard laughed. “I wanted to wish you good luck,” Edelgard said when Dorothea let her go.

“You’re not supposed to say that!” Dorothea admonished, though she was still smiling. “You’re supposed to say ‘Break a leg’ in theater.”

“Well then, break a leg.”

Dorothea beamed. Ferdinand couldn’t hold in a chuckle at the sight of them. This was the most relaxed he had seen Edelgard in weeks.

His amusement dampened when Edelgard turned to him with a somber expression. “I am also to tell you that Hubert cannot make it.”

Where the spark of jealousy had been yesterday now sat a lump of lead. “Oh,” he said, for he thought he should say something.

“An important matter came up last minute with... our other allies.” Edelgard laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Ferdinand.”

“It is fine, Edelgard. I understand there are more important things.” He couldn’t bare the twin looks of sympathy on her and Dorothea’s faces. “We will be starting soon so you should take your seat.”

Edelgard nodded. “Of course.” She squeezed his arm briefly. “Break a leg, Ferdinand.”

He mustered a smile before she turned and left. People finally noticed her, the crimson and gold of her long dress catching the torchlight. Ferdinand was probably one of the few who knew there was a hand axe strapped to her leg under that dress. Just in case.

Dorothea watched her go with a besotted expression. How had Ferdinand not noticed anything before? “Well,” she said, cheeks still pink, “shall we begin?”

Ferdinand watched everyone start taking their seats. A chair at the front beside Edelgard remained untouched. He looked over at Dorothea and grinned. “Let us show them a love story they will never forget!”

Her eyes sparkled as she gave him a quick hug. She signaled Manuela, who nodded, and backstage became a hive of activity as final adjustments were made, cues were gone over, and music sheets were collected.

Ferdinand took his place behind the curtain, sucked in a deep breath, and waiting for it to rise.


	2. Act Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up the Opera here with the bare bones description you get from Dorothea in-game, which means I made up the 'songs' too. Please be nice about it XD I'm no song writer. Also all the character names here are reference to other Fire Emblem games because why not lol
> 
> Thank you all for a warm reception! I hope the ending is to your liking!

One of the first issues Ferdinand had run into when playing the male lead was, what Dorothea called, his ‘unbearable noble persona’.

“If you hold yourself like that on stage, no one is going to believe you’re a commoner!” She had said, pushing his shoulders down.

“But everyone _knows_ I am no commoner,” Ferdinand had protested. “Everyone in the audience knows who I am.”

“Opera is about suspending disbelief. If you act like this while you’re on stage, everyone is going to see Ferdinand von Aegir. Not Brom Ohma.”

With lots of poking and prodding, and no small amount of Dorothea’s sharp critiques, Ferdinand found the posture of Brom Ohma.

It was all worth it now that people were watching him. Ferdinand sang his opening aria in a tattered shirt, simple pants, and scuffed boots. Brom sang about his life on the streets; how he was grateful for every scrap of food, every pity coin tossed his way, every fellow street urchin who had his back.

The scene played out perfectly and, when it was done, Ferdinand disappeared backstage so Dorothea could make her grand appearance. As she sang, Ferdinand was able to lose himself in the story. He could forget about Hubert. What was important right now was giving their friends and fellow soldiers a good time. Dorothea, or rather Princess Astrid von Damiell, sang of having to pick from a stream of noblemen and how all of them seemed the same.

Everything went smoothly, apart from a scene where Alois was to kick a rock at Ferdinand and missed said rock twice. Scene five was the big one; the moment where Brom and Astrid first meet.

For the first time since the show began, Ferdinand checked the audience. Everyone seemed engaged. Annette was on the edge of her seat. Even Linhardt was still awake, though that might have to do with Caspar poking him constantly.

The spot next to Edelgard remained empty.

Manuela exited the stage and gave Ferdinand an encouraging wink. He grinned back, straightened his shirt, and stepped out.

On the edge of their makeshift fountain, Dorothea sat sobbing. Her fancy dress was covered by a worn travel cloak. Ferdinand walked on stage quietly; Brom was to be cautiously concerned for this stranger. As he jumped up onto the opposite side of the fountain, Ferdinand caught a purple flash from the corner of his eye. He absently looked out towards the crowd and did a double take.

Standing at the back of the room was Hubert.

In another blink of purple, Hubert was in the seat beside Edelgard, chin in his hand as if he had always been there. He caught Ferdinand’s stare. He didn’t smile or wave; just inclined his head. 

Ferdinand felt his heart soar and he began to smile just as Dorothea cleared her throat. Apparently he had been silent too long. He snapped his attention back to the scene.

Brom sidled up to the clearly upset woman and began to sing:

_“You mimic the fountain you sit upon_

_And it breaks my heart to see!_

_Permit me to plant myself down_

_And be an ear to thee._

_“Tell me of what ails you_

_For though I have no wealth,_

_I may know a trick or two_

_That will improve your heart’s poor health!”_

With an exaggerated sniff, the woman turned to Brom and sang:

_“How kind you are, sir,_

_To stop and aid this rose._

_But there is nothing you could do to help_

_So I shall save you all my woes.”_

Brom knelt beside her and offered her his hand_. _

_“Then let me take you around the city!_

_Tours make for great distraction._

_It’s clear you are new to my streets,_

_So let’s find you some action!”_

From there, Brom led the stranger, who named herself Makalov, through the city. They shared food, poked fun at the other’s oddities, danced to a street performer’s music (which was very hard to choreograph but Ferdinand thought they did fine), and finally ended their day outside the city gates.

Princess Astrid, disguised as Makalov, rested her head on Brom’s shoulder as they sat side by side. She began to hum. Brom stood and offered her his hand once more. When he pulled her to her feet, the two began a slow dance, almost a waltz, as they sang together:

_“Something is here_

_Between us two._

_I feel as though I know you._

_“I love your laugh,_

_I love your smile._

_I feel that logic is in exile._

_“For though our time_

_Has been swift,_

_I feel my heart begin to lift_

_Knowing you are in the world.”_

Brom and Makalov looked adoringly at one another, like two people with a shared secret. Brom gave Makalov a twirl as the music swelled.

_“Who else can guess_

_My thoughts like you?_

_I feel as though you know me true._

_“Are you a friend?_

_Or something more?_

_I feel a love I can’t ignore._

_“Please always tease_

_And always care._

_I feel I’ll be happy anywhere._

_Knowing you are in my world.”_

They ended with Brom holding Makalov in a low dip, inches from each other’s faces.

Everyone applauded enthusiastically, some getting to their feet. Dorothea and Ferdinand grinned triumphantly at one another. Ferdinand’s eyes trailed up to find Hubert’s. He remained seated, clapping, his expression of intense observation. Was it the torchlight or were his pale cheeks tinged pink?

Ferdinand was pulled back into the story when a few of Brom’s street friends ran in to tell them that there were guards all over the city looking for the princess, who had been missing all day. Dorothea and Ferdinand ran off stage so Manuela could start her scene.

“Hubie made it!” Dorothea cheered in a loud whisper once they were hidden.

Ferdinand was still slightly out of breath from their dance and their subsequent run, but he smiled nonetheless. “I am sorry I missed my cue. His entrance distracted me.”

“Don’t worry about it for a minute,” Dorothea soothed. “What a nice surprise! He must have come right from whatever business he was dealing with. I never thought he’d use that warp spell of his for something like this.” She wiggled her eyebrows as Ferdinand. “I _wonder_ why this would be so important to him.”

Ferdinand shook his head at her, though his smile had yet to fade. “I will not lie— it is good to see he kept his word. I hope he can follow the story.”

“I’m sure Hubie is clever enough to figure out what’s going on.” Someone waved for Dorothea to get ready to go back out. She gave Ferdinand an encouraging grin. “Don’t let him make you too nervous!” She warned before heading to stage right.

As the act progressed, Ferdinand tried not to let his thoughts get the best of him. Why had Hubert gotten here so fast? Had he truly felt that bad for being late? Or was he just edger to get back to Edelgard’s side?

For the final scene before intermission, Ferdinand was once again on stage. Brom was going to be captured for allegedly kidnapping the princess. Astrid begged for her mother to release the commoner while apologizing to a shocked Brom for hiding her real identity. The curtain fell as the audience applauded again.

Manuela wrapped an arm around both Dorothea and Ferdinand. “You are doing so well! I think we have truly captured everyone’s hearts.”

Dorothea beamed. Ferdinand laughed but found himself squirming away as politely as he could as Manuela went on about being _born_ to play the part of Queen.

Backstage, he chanced a glance out at the audience. Everyone was chatting amongst themselves. Professor Byleth was listening to an unusually animated Bernadetta. Ashe and Ingrid seemed to be explaining something to Petra, which made sense; opera likely challenged her grasp on their language.

Hubert and Edelgard were the only ones looking absolutely serious. They were bent close together, Edelgard nodding occasionally as Hubert spoke. Probably briefing her on his mission. Dismayed as he was that the pair would not visit backstage during intermission, Ferdinand was still happy just to see Hubert at all. When this night was over, and Ferdinand was free from the opera, he resolved to take Hubert to coffee in town so they could catch up. If Hubert didn’t have any free time, they would just have to take coffee in his office.

Ferdinand liked the image of that. Sitting beside Hubert at his desk, idly thumbing through papers. Making exaggerated faces to show his distaste for coffee. Hubert shaking his head and firing off some snide comment about Ferdinand’s uncultured tongue. Ferdinand would act offended but chuckle all the same. Maybe their hands would brush as they reached for the next paper, that same pink would appear on Hubert’s face, Ferdinand would lean in with a smile and maybe Hubert would take Ferdinand’s hand in his _scandalously_ ungloved one and—

Topaz eyes suddenly locked onto his and Ferdinand felt a jolt down his spine. Edelgard followed Hubert’s gaze, smiling when she saw they lead to Ferdinand. He stepped back into the shadows and turned to find Dorothea approaching with two canteens.

“H-How do you think it is turning out so far?” He asked, hoping she didn’t notice his flushed face.

She handed him a canteen. “Wonderfully! I hope I can remember the fight Alois and I choreographed. Can I run it through with you before the second act starts?”

“Of course!”

Tilting her head, Dorothea asked, “Are you alright, Ferdie? You should drink some water.”

“Y-Yes. You are right. We need to make sure the second act is as strong as the first.” He gulped down his water and then followed her to get a pair of wooden swords.

They had just enough time to go through the fight once before intermission was over. The drama ramped up in the second act and the songs took on a clipped, belligerent tone as everyone sang and danced towards the climactic moment.

Finally, Princess Astrid von Damiell took up a sword against her father; singing that she should marry whoever makes her happiest, for that person will make the best partner to have at her side through the trials of being Queen. Alois wasn’t the best singer but his passion was enough to see him through King Gatrie’s lines about how only nobles are worthy of a place in their family.

King Gatrie got carried away in his fury and tried to strike Astrid down, but Brom jumped in and deflected the blade at the last moment. Together, Astrid and Brom beat back the king with the power of Astrid’s secret swordsmanship and Brom’s love. The King’s sword flew out of his hand and landed at Queen Titania’s feet.

Or rather, the sword was _meant_ to just land at her feet. Instead it stabbed into the stage right beside Manuela. There was a beat of stunned silence— the audience was in awe of the precision of the opera company while the performers were watching Manuela uneasily for signs that she might too terrified to move. But, like a true professional, Manuela shook off what _almost_ just happened and picked up the sword.

Enraged, King Gatrie demanded that his wife hand him the sword, but instead she threw it to the side and cried that the king should _not_ be fighting their daughter.

In the final scene, Astrid stood hand in hand with Brom. His street friends and her fellow nobles cheered as they embraced.

Dorothea had been adamant that the opera _not_ end in a kiss. She had said the main story was about Astrid finding the courage to carve her own path in life, not just about finding love.

But as she and Ferdinand’s final notes echoed in the cathedral’s high ceilings, she leaned up and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. Giddy, he picked her up and spun them, the two laughing unabashed as the crowd cheered and whistled. 

Everyone in the company came on stage to bow. Caspar’s shouts were heard above all others, every Black Eagles clapping around him. Soldiers whooped and people from the village pounded their feet, some threw flowers and others offered only bright smiles.

Dorothea hopped down from the stage— and was immediately engulfed in hugs, Byleth leading the charge. Dorothea handled the praise with the grace of a songstress. The crowd parted to allow a beaming Edelgard through. She held a bouquet of flowers.

Dorothea put her hands on her hips. “Well, my Emperor? Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did indeed.” Edelgard stepped forward, rose on her tip toes, and kissed Dorothea on the cheek. A blush crept up Dorothea’s face and she pulled Edelgard into a hug, burying her red face in Edelgard’s shoulder. The other Black Eagles laughed.

When Ferdinand jumped down he received a similar treatment as his friends swarmed him. Bernadetta stammered out congratulations, Ashe gushed about Brom’s character, Shamir clapped him on the back with a “you did good, kid”.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, Dorothea untangled herself from Edelgard and hugged Ferdinand tightly.

“You were _amazing_,” she breathed in his ear.

“If I did well at all, it is because if you,” he told her honestly.

When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short. You make a wonderful commoner.”

He chuckled. “I think _you_ make a lovely princess.” He jerked his head at Edelgard behind her. “Or perhaps a queen?”

Dorothea turned scarlet again and hit his shoulder as she laughed. “Speaking of,” she said, looking around, “where is Hubie?”

“Speaking of?” Ferdinand repeated.

“Oh stop playing dumb, Ferdie.”

Before Ferdinand could reply, Dorothea was swept away by Annette and Manuela. People came forward to shake Ferdinand’s hand. Some crew from back stage spoke of an after party in the dining hall.

“A _party_?” Linhardt said with revulsion. “No, I think it’s bed time. I couldn’t sleep through all that music.”

“I am thinking a party would be fun,” Petra put in.

Alois nudged Ferdinand. “I would change if I were you. The only place you celebrate with blood on your shirt is a tavern.”

Ferdinand looked down and remembered his shirt was stained from a ‘wound’ he had taken a few scenes ago. “Perhaps you are right. I will meet you there!” He waved to everyone as he retreated. A few soldiers stopped him to offer congratulations, several remarking that they didn’t General von Aegir could sing like that. 

At last, Ferdinand made his way backstage. In the euphoria of finishing the opera successfully, Ferdinand hadn’t immediately realized Hubert wasn’t among their friends. Now worry plagued him. Had Hubert retreated to finish his work; politely staying just long enough to watch the show but not sticking around to mingle? Ferdinand tried, once again, not to be too disappointed. The opera had been a nice reprieve from the war but there was always work to do.

“Ferdinand.”

Ferdinand froze in the action of puling on his extra shirt. Turning, he was surprised and delighted to see Hubert behind him.

So delighted, in fact, that he forgot himself and wrapped his arms around Hubert’s neck, pulling him into a hug.

“You made it,” Ferdinand said just above a whisper, feeling his face heat up.

He intended to let go right away to save Hubert the discomfort of touch— but Hubert caught him around the waist and held him there. “I said I would do whatever I could to make it. I’m insulted you doubted me.

“The war—”

“Has waited five years. I daresay it can stand another night. I… very much wanted to come.”

Ferdinand smiled, resting his chin on Hubert’s shoulder. He might not get another chance to be this close. Best to indulge. “What did you think?”

“I think Brom is a fool but at least your singing was enjoyable.” Hubert released him and Ferdinand took that as the signal to let go as well. “I’ve heard you sing to your horse, but it is different on stage.”

Chuckling, Ferdinand crossed his arms, heart lifting at the praise. “How is Brom a fool? He took care of a stranger and stood alongside his true love despite the difficulties!”

“How does one not recognize the Princess of the very city he resides in? Where would a simple street urchin learn how to use a sword with such proficiency? Brom is a suspicious character at best.”

“So is he a fool or a suspicious person?”

“Fools can be suspicious.”

Ferdinand shook his head. “If you have a problem with the character, you should speak with Dorothea. I merely followed her direction and portrayed Brom as accurate to her vision as I could.”

Hubert placed a gloved hand on Ferdinand’s cheek. “You were _perfection_.”

Ferdinand stared, mouth slightly agape.

“Well, _near_ perfection. There was the third scene of the second act where you clearly—”

“Oh Hubert.” Ferdinand put a hand behind Hubert’s neck and pulled him forward so their faces were a breath’s distance apart. “Are you unable to let me get away with _anything_?”

Hubert’s hand had not moved. “What would you _like_ to get away with?”

Those topaz eyes were piercing, the pink across his face as charming as Ferdinand imagined, his presence all consuming, a small though genuine smile on his face just like the one Ferdinand had so hoped to see from the stage.

Ferdinand leaned in and kissed him. Immediately, Hubert’s other hand came up so he was cradling Ferdinand’s face. Ferdinand’s arms wound around Hubert’s neck once again, holding him in place, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Hubert tasted like coffee and smelled of magic and Ferdinand wondered why he had pushed aside these thoughts for so long.

He expressed them all in the form of melting into the kiss. Ferdinand would never have thought of Hubert as gentle, but his lips were soft and his hands caressed Ferdinand’s chin and neck with such care, as if afraid to leave a mark. Ferdinand pulled away a fraction and covered Hubert’s hand with his own, grabbing the middle finger of the glove and pulling it off. Hubert seemed to understand and reverently reached out to cup Ferdinand’s cheek again. Ferdinand shuttered at the contact. This, this loving and tentative skin to skin contact felt more intimate than any kiss.

“How indecent of you,” Ferdinand murmured, “letting me strip you in the shadows like this. What will the Empire think of you now?”

A chuckle vibrated through Hubert’s chest at the taunt. His hot breath ghosted across Ferdinand’s ear. In a low voice, Hubert muttered, “Please always tease—” A kiss to Ferdinand’s temple. “—and always care.” A kiss to his cheek, just above Hubert’s hand. “I feel I’ll be happy anywhere, knowing you are in my world.”

The words weren’t sung; it sounded more like Hubert was reciting poetry. Ferdinand couldn’t hold in a giggle. “I told you it would get stuck in your head.”

“On this point I will rule you the victor.” A last soft kiss to Ferdinand’s lips. “For your information, I would have let you get away with that months ago,”

“Months— Hubert, why did you not say anything?!”

“You can be so slow sometimes. I thought it only polite to let you catch up first.”

The noise outside was beginning to die down. Everyone would be making their way to the dining hall by now. Ferdinand reluctantly let go of Hubert, holding out his glove. “Shall we?”

Hubert took the glove. Then, to Ferdinand’s delight, he removed his other glove and placed both in his pocket. “We shall. Permit me to escort you?” He held out his arm.

Ferdinand gave a humbled bow. “Most kind of you, sir.”

Dorothea might have been right in not letting the opera end in a kiss. Not every tale needed a kiss to remind the audience where the character’s affection lay. But, as he and Hubert entered the hall to applause and Hubert pulled him into another kiss in full view of the Empire’s elite fighters and ungloved fingers entwined with his, Ferdinand decided that it was still his favorite way of ending a story.


End file.
